


Bite Sized

by moolktea



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Biting, DNA (destroy nero's ass), Fluff, Incubus Dante, Knotting, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Rimming, Self-Lubrication, belly bulge, nero propaganda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:33:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21843751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moolktea/pseuds/moolktea
Summary: Dante’s an unrepentant bastard, lazy and smug in all of the worst ways, and he’d really only seen fit to tell Nero that he was actually a sex demon from hell after he’d taken Nero’s virginity.“You’re a good fuck,” Dante had informed him, quite reasonably, as if he were pointing out some other, normal attribute of Nero’s person. “Would be a real shame to let you slip away so easily.”-Nero's incubus housemate doesn't think Nero can handle him. Nero begs to differ.
Relationships: Dante/Nero (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 349





	Bite Sized

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Forest_Girl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forest_Girl/gifts).



> hewwo....merry dmcecret santa,,,my eyes were extremely blessed by ur prompt lKJBLKL i wuv u, fellow danewo fan  
> ty TO LUNA my fellow clown for proofreadin as usual

When his resident soul-stealing incubus starts rejecting pizza, beer, and sex in favor of curling up on his couch like an empty husk of corn, Nero knows that something’s wrong.

He’s standing over Dante’s prone form, a full pizza box cradled in his hands as he waves it enticingly in front of Dante’s face, but the man makes no move to grab it, shooting Nero a somewhat lackluster grin as he folds his hands behind his head.

“I’m good, kid. Not hungry,” he lies, because it has to be a lie--in the two months that Nero’s known Dante for, there’s never been a time when Dante hasn’t been hungry, whether for human food or for the type of “food” that his kind usually consumes.

Nero narrows his eyes at the demon, because he’d ditched all of his classes today to come sit at Dante’s couchside, and no matter how hard Nero’s tried to convince himself otherwise, he’s admittedly concerned for the demon. 

Dante’s an unrepentant bastard, lazy and smug in all of the worst ways, and he’d really only seen fit to tell Nero that he was actually a sex demon from hell  _ after  _ he’d taken Nero’s virginity. He’d made it clear that he was only hanging around Nero for the entertainment value--he’d liked what he’d gotten that first time around and had taken it upon himself to temporarily plant himself in Nero’s apartment like some kind of particularly invasive mold.

Nero himself hadn’t even been involved in that decision making process. He’d come home from his classes one day to find Dante sprawled out on his bed like a starfish, wearing the same outfit he’d been in on the day they’d met. After a fair amount of alarmed screaming and almost-successful calls to the police, Dante had helpfully explained exactly what he was, and then had announced that he’d be living with Nero for the near future.

“You’re a good fuck,” Dante had informed him, quite reasonably, as if he were pointing out some other, normal attribute of Nero’s person. “Would be a real shame to let you slip away so easily.”

Nero had mostly allowed it to happen at first, both because his status as a college student meant he didn’t exactly have the time to figure out how to banish one of the twin sons of the King of Hell from his shitty apartment, and because the sex had been and continued to be undeniably good.

Dante’s dick was probably the best part of him though, because nearly every time Dante opened his mouth, Nero found himself either ready for a verbal argument or at a complete loss of words altogether. The other’s living standards left something to be desired as well, scattering his trash across Nero’s shitty carpet until Nero had managed to train him to use the trash can like a decent living being.

Somewhere over the weeks though, between late nights of doing his homework with Dante leaning over his shoulder, occasionally interjecting his opinion, and early mornings of getting tangled up in Dante’s clingy octopus cuddle grip, things have changed. 

His feelings towards Dante have evolved from “tolerable” to “grudgingly likable,” which is why Nero now finds himself wasting his time and trying to cajole Dante out of whatever demonic depression he’s run himself into.

He places the pizza box gently on the nearby coffee table, then pokes deliberately at Dante’s legs. The demon obligingly lifts his feet upwards to allow Nero to slide into the empty space on the couch, draping them back over Nero’s lap a second later.

“What’s up with you?” Nero demands, not bothering to push Dante off of him. “You haven’t done anything except lay on this couch for the past three days. Are you sick? Can demons even  _ get  _ sick?”

Dante’s gaze shifts evasively to the side, the muscles of his throat tightening with a nervous tension before he speaks.

“It’s nothing like that. Sort of. I’ve just been a bit tired lately, that’s all.”

“You don’t  _ get  _ tired. You’re always lazy, but you’ve never been  _ tired,” _ he points out, folding his arms across his chest. “Whatever it is you think you have to hide from me, you can just say it. I’m used to the shit that comes out of your mouth by now.”

He’s not sure if he actually expects Dante to tell him--for all his blunt words and utter lack of tact, Dante hasn’t exactly been forthcoming with information about the demonic side of their arrangement, preferring to let the details fly over Nero’s head. 

Nero’s pretty certain that Dante doesn’t view their relationship the same way that Nero does. More likely, the demon sees him as some sort of pet that he’s keeping around for fun, a no-strings-attached arrangement that he can fuck off on at any time he wants. 

For the most part, he’d been the same way, but lately Nero thinks that the apartment might actually feel a little emptier if Dante and his enormous head weren’t there to take up all the space.

To his surprise, Dante tilts his head at that, studying Nero with an assessing sort of look before he lazily drapes his arms over the edges of the couch.

“Sure, I’ll bite. I guess you could say I’m hungry. Don’t need any of that human food though, as good as it is. I probably wouldn’t be able to keep it down in this state.”

Nero frowns at Dante’s casual tone--the other is playing it down like he always does, like none of his problems are of any importance, but there’s a hint of strain in the older man’s voice that betrays how bad off he really is.

“So...but wait, it’s not like you don’t get to... _ feed,” _ Nero mumbles out the last word, his cheeks pinkening at the notion of referring to himself as Dante’s food. “I mean, we only haven’t slept together for the past three days because  _ you  _ insisted on moving to the couch.”

Dante grimaces, chewing at the inside of his cheek as he casts his gaze towards the ceiling in contemplation, and Nero gets the distinct, almost alarming impression that Dante’s actually trying to  _ think  _ about what he should say. The idea of Dante mincing his words is alarming enough, but he’s never known the demon to hesitate in getting what he wants or needs.

“It’s sort of complicated. I, uh...I can’t feed off of you right now. Your energy isn’t doing it for me right now.”

The way that Dante places emphasis on the word “you” stings at something inside of Nero more than he’d like to admit, and he immediately scowls, feeling his defenses spike sharply upwards as he curls in on himself.

“What, so you want to go fuck someone else? Nothing’s keeping you here, so it’s not like you have to just lay around here if you really want to get your dick wet,” he snaps, a part of him regretting the bite in his tone as soon as the words leave him.

He and Dante had never outwardly agreed upon staying exclusive to each other, but Nero had sort of expected--and perhaps hoped--that his arrangement with Dante implied something a certain amount of loyalty. Dante’s occasionally left his side to go off on his own in the past, but Nero’s never given much thought to it, assuming the demon had Underworld-specific obligations to attend to.

Nero scowls, somewhat irritated at himself for the undeniable undercurrent of hurt twisting at his gut. It’s not like he has any claim over Dante, and the other’s incubus nature probably meant that this was all but inevitable.

Dante abruptly sits up though, his feet sliding off of Nero’s lap with the movement. 

“Hey, no, I didn’t mean it like that, kid,” he starts, running a hand almost nervously through his hair, and Nero finds something about the gesture helplessly endearing. “That was a bad way to put it. I don’t mean  _ you  _ aren’t enough, I just...I’m going through something right about now. We’ll call it my rut--I guess that’s the closest word in your human language that I’m going to find.”

“So you’re really going for the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ angle?” Nero asks dryly, but he can’t deny the measure of relief that washes over him at the idea that Dante’s problem is indeed more demonic than human.

Dante actually chuckles at that, shifting closer until he’s almost pressed up against Nero, leaning unconsciously into his space. Nero’s often seen the way that Dante seems to gravitate towards him in his sleep, often burying his face in the crook of Nero’s neck or into his stomach over the course of the night. He suspects it has something to do with his scent, but he’s never been able to work past his embarrassment and ask about it.

“Something like that. To make things simple, a few times a year I need to take in a lot more energy than I usually do. There’s a whole biological reason behind him, but I won’t get into that. Either way, it’ll pass on it’s own and things can go back to normal after a week or so, yeah?”

Somehow, Nero doesn’t think the solution is as simple as that. Or maybe it is, and he’s just overreacting, but the idea of watching Dante waste away on his couch for the rest of the week doesn’t sit right with him. He tilts his head up to study Dante, but the man’s had a lot of practice in masking his emotions, his face set in its normally easy smile.

“Well, maybe I can’t give off enough, but you can at least take some, right? Or, I don’t know--there has to be some way for you to get what you need. What else are you supposed to do during times like these?”

Dante’s already shaking his head before Nero can finish his sentence, one of his hands reaching up to drop itself into Nero’s hair, his fingers ruffling gently at his bangs.

“Thanks for the offer, but that’s not going to work. You’re pretty tiny, even in human terms--I’d drain you dry, and not in the good way. When it gets like this, it’s better if I don’t try anything at all. I’m not too good at controlling myself, even normally.”

Nero has indeed witnessed firsthand the rather limited scope of Dante’s self-control. It’d taken him at least a week or two to get Dante to stop plucking whatever he wanted off of the grocery store shelves and simply pocketing them, just because he’d evidently been raised on the principle of being able to get whatever he wanted.

So Dante’s restraint in this scenario, especially when it came to his favorite activity, is practically unheard of, and Nero eyes him suspiciously. 

“Okay, now I  _ know  _ something’s weird. You’re actually admitting that you’re bad at something.”

“What can I say? I’m a humble man.”

Nero levels Dante with a flat stare, watching as the grin slowly slides off of the other’s face with a soft sigh. He scratches idly at the stubble on his chin, turning his head away like he might be able to run away from this conversation.

“Alright, it’s...so...rut is a demon thing, right? So generally, it’s not about who I do it with, exactly, it’s more like... _ I _ need to be in my true form to get what I need. And so far, I’ve only ever shown you my human form. My kind doesn’t usually transform unless we’re with another demon.”

Maybe it’s because Nero’s missing something here, but the solution seems painfully obvious to him.

“Then...you need to find another demon to feed off of? Or just...just...do it with me? I’ve already spent eighteen out of the nineteen years of my life looking at the ugliest goatee known to man grow itself onto my brother’s face. There’s no way your demon form can be any worse than that.”

Dante looks mildly open to the idea of seeing Credo’s goatee, but seems to deny all other parts of Nero’s offer.

“It’s not just a change in appearance. My instincts have a lot more control of me than my brain does, when I’m like that, and it’ll be even worse since…” he trails off, pausing to look hard at Nero’s face. “It’ll just be bad. And I’m bigger, too. Lots of sharp claws and spiky ridges. Wouldn’t want to hurt that pretty face of yours, kid.”

Nero doesn't push at Dante for the quip, strangely appreciative of the way that Dante hadn’t even paused to consider the “other demon” option. Still, although he’s sure that it wasn’t Dante’s intention, Nero hears the challenge implicit in the other’s words, straightening up to meet Dante’s gaze.

“I can handle it,” he insists, pressing onwards to interrupt Dante’s inevitable protest. “How do you know for sure if we haven’t even tried? I get that most humans probably wouldn’t be too eager about something like this, but I don’t care. I don’t want to see your old ass lay around here doing nothing for the next week, and if you’re not even eating pizza, then you feel a lot worse that you’re letting on.”

He can see Dante’s resolve rapidly wavering, the resistance in his gaze falling away as he looks over Nero with renewed interest. One of his teeth, pointier than Nero remembers, sinks down into his lip as he thinks it over, his large hands slowly curling at his sides.

“You don’t know what you’re getting into,” Dante tries one last time, the edge of a warning clear in his voice.

It’s true, Nero really doesn’t. He doesn’t have the slightest inkling of what Dante’s demon form could look like or how demons normally behaved with the inhibitors of a human mind removed. 

But when he looks at Dante and remembers the stupid kicked puppy expression the other’s face from when he’d been sulking from his self-imposed starvation, Nero knows he really only has two options—either he has to help Dante himself, or he’ll have to push him to find someone who can.

“Do you think you’ll  _ kill _ me, if you go into your demon form?” 

Dante shakes his head, looking vaguely alarmed at the suggestion of it. 

“Nothing like that. Worst case scenario, I take up everything you can possibly give me, and you end up taking a nap for a couple days or so. But still...that’s...that’s pretty bad, Nero. Never felt that kind of energy loss myself, but it definitely won’t be fun.”

Out of all the things Dante’s done over the past three days, his newfound and apparently increasing amount of concern for Nero’s well-being has to be the weirdest.

“Well, I’m not going to  _ die, _ so what’s the problem? I didn’t think something like that would end up stopping you.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad, am I?”

Nero does not, in fact, think that Dante is an inherently bad person--but as far as he can tell, demonic morality operates on a far different standard, and Dante was more than used to ignoring the consequences of his actions in favor of the benefits, so as long as they didn’t directly concern him. 

“You know what I mean! You decided you were going to be living in my house without permission-- _ nothing _ stops you when you want something.”

Dante shrugs in concession at that, tipping his head back to rest it against the cushions behind them.

“Fair point. Alright, we’ll try it your way, kid. You got a lot more to lose here than I do, though, and I’m telling you now, if you don’t look like you’re up for it, I’m backing out early. Better to have you flake out in the beginning than when I’m already in the middle of it.”

Determination settles heavily in his stomach as he unfolds his arms, hurrying to shove his remaining reservations away in favor of getting to his feet, looking at Dante for guidance. Now that he’s actually facing the other, he feels a faint flush starting to creep into his cheeks, one hand swiping at his nose as he glances away, shifting his weight between his feet.

“So do you want to do it...now?”

Dante grins, a bit of an edge to his smile as he lazily uncoils himself from the couch, one large hand pressing itself against Nero’s back as Dante starts to lead him towards the bedroom. With the issue of Nero’s permission safely out of the way, Dante seems to be quickly abandoning the hesitation he’d been holding onto. By the time he shoves open the door and gently pushes Nero onto the bed, he’s returned almost entirely to his old self that Nero’s come to know and admittedly like.

Sex with Dante isn’t exactly anything new to him, but Nero can’t help the wave of initial embarrassment he feels every time, the way he curls up against the head of the bed, waiting for Dante to take the lead.

“Thanks for this, kid,” Dante murmurs softly as he slides a hand beneath the fabric of Nero’s hoodie, his voice unusually gentle.

Nero tries not to jump at Dante’s too-warm touch against his sensitive stomach, automatically looking away. 

“Don’t  _ talk  _ about it, that makes it weird,” he snaps back, his blush deepening at the sound of Dante’s low chuckle.

He automatically falls onto his back, his head hitting the pillow with a soft thump before he turns his face slightly into it, avoiding Dante’s gaze as the demon reaches forward, hooking his fingers into the hem of Nero’s pants and tugging the clothing downwards. They both know that Dante could just as easily dissolve Nero’s clothes off of him with a touch, but as lazy as Dante is with most things, sex isn’t one of them.

Nero squirms instinctively as Dante drags his hand slowly down from his abdomen, his hands easily circling themselves around Nero’s thighs and pull them apart, settling himself into the gap between them. He doesn’t move right away though, instead staring thoughtfully down at Nero’s form, long enough to make him shift uncomfortably underneath Dante.

“What, you need a nap or something, old man? Hurry up already.”

Dante’s eyes flick towards his face, his gaze unusually heavy.

“You mind if I try something different?”

He’s tried a lot of “different” things with Dante--before he’d met the man, he’d been a virgin in every aspect of the word, and Dante had taken no small amount of enjoyment in the idea of corrupting him. It’d been part of the reason why Dante had been so eager to attach himself to him, all things considered, and Nero’s spent the past couple of months of his life going along with each of Dante’s new suggestions.

“You’re actually asking me?” Nero raises a brow at him, nudging impatiently at Dante’s knee with his foot. “I already said you could do what you want.”

Dante hums in something like agreement, drawing light circles against the inside of Nero’s thigh with his thumb before he lowers his head. Nero’s leg jerks involuntarily as Dante mouths at the sensitive flesh, his tongue lapping at a small patch of skin before his teeth cover the area. 

The points of Dante’s fangs easily break the skin, blood welling to the surface at the bite mark, heat flaring up from the wound. Dante smirks against his skin at Nero’s soft yelp of confusion, licking gently at the flesh until Nero pulls slightly away, every part of his skin suddenly incredibly oversensitive.

“What--?” Nero barely manages to ask, before a wave of dizziness hits him like a truck, his fingers curling themselves weakly into the sheets beneath him.

Liquid heat seeps into his veins from the bite, flooding through him and bringing a pink flush to the surface of his skin, and it takes him an entirely too long moment to realize that he’s already hard. It takes him an even longer second to work through the fog in his mind and process the warm wetness between his thighs.

He makes to close his legs under Dante’s gaze, a soft noise of confusion leaving him as he reaches downwards, his cheeks turning bright red when his fingers brush over his own entrance, coming away damp. It’s a familiar sensation, similar enough to lube that Nero can guess at its purpose, but he’s still a little too new to this to figure out exactly how Dante’s managed to do it.

“It’ll help us out,” Dante promises, lifting his eyes upwards, amusement curling at his lips. “Whatever energy I get from this comes from your pleasure, not mine. So I figure I’ve gotta find a way to make it last longer, yeah?”

There’s a deliberate sort of twist from Dante’s lips, one that Nero knows comes from the fact that he never does last very long--he blames Dante for it really, whatever the bastard does always ends up making Nero come apart underneath him long before Dante’s finished.

He doesn’t bother to reply to Dante, dropping his forearm over his eyes to shield himself in his embarrassment, his hips jerking against the bed when another wave of heat courses through him. His skin prickles uncomfortably, suddenly itching for Dante’s touch, and he pushes his leg back against Dante’s hand with a muffled whine.

“I got you, kid,” Dante reassures him, stroking gently at Nero’s thigh before he bends his head again, easily tugging Nero’s lower half slightly upwards and hooking his legs over his broad shoulders to prop him up.

Nero’s expecting it when Dante presses his tongue against his entrance, but the sensation feels different somehow, his oversensitive nerves sparking at the contact, drawing a stifled gasp from him before Dante even really  _ does  _ anything. Whatever Dante had put into him when he’d bitten him is definitely taking its toll now, and Nero presses his head back against the pillow, blinking hard against the dizziness that washes over him, light-headed and overheated.

Even the fabric of his shirt seems to stick uncomfortably at his skin, and when he tugs blindly at it, Dante mercifully vanishes it from his body before he returns his attention to Nero’s hole, pushing his tongue into him. Nero’s body automatically clenches down around the intrusion, his breath catching in his throat as his hips grind downwards against Dante’s mouth, searching for more of the contact.

Dante’s movements are unusually slow though, the man taking his time in leisurely pulling away to toy with the rim of Nero’s hole, one thick finger reaching up to swipe at the fluid leaking from his body. 

Nero feels impatience bubbling underneath his skin as Dante presses the tip of his finger against his entrance, slowly and painstakingly sliding it into him. He’s taken more than this at a time, Dante  _ knows  _ he has, and when he jerks his hips purposefully downwards, Dante actually pulls away.

He replaces his fingers with his tongue again, this time properly starting to slick Nero up--not that Nero needs it, with the mess he’s already making on his own. Nero bites out his moan into his arm, surprised to find himself as close to the edge as he already is, his lower half desperately shifting in search of more contact.

The hand still wrapped around his leg tightens as Dante runs his thumb over the bite mark, and Nero mewls as his vision temporarily whites out, his back arching off of the bed from the sudden rush of sensation flowing straight from the touch. He can hear the wet sounds of Dante’s tongue against him, somewhere between his embarrassingly breathy noises, and it’s enough to nearly push him over when everything abruptly comes to a stop.

Dante moves his head back just at the right time, and Nero feels the tightening coil in his stomach slowly start to loosen, his impending orgasm falling away with the loss of contact. He feels his lower half being gently returned to the mattress, his hole clenching down around empty air, and the faint noise of disappointment leaves him before he can think to stop it.

He struggles to catch his breath, swiping his forearm over his eyes as he tries to prop himself up to glare at Dante, his cheeks still flushed.

“What the fuck,” Nero snaps at him, because maybe Dante is expecting him to  _ ask  _ for it, and Nero doesn’t think he’d be entirely able to stop himself.

“Can’t have you finishing early on me,” Dante replies, his innocent tone greatly undermined by the growing smirk on his face.

Nero’s about to deliver some choice words at him and maybe finish the job himself when Dante suddenly slides his hands under his lower back and pulls him upwards, rearranging them so that Nero’s sitting in his lap. He feels the wetness in his lower half starting to leak into the fabric of Dante’s pants, and he pushes his face into the man’s chest to avoid having to look at him, mumbling out something incoherent into his shirt.

He shifts on top of Dante, trying to find an angle that doesn’t leave him trying to helplessly get off against Dante’s leg, his ass accidentally brushing over the bulge in Dante’s pants with the movement. 

Dante grunts at the contact, his grip on Nero’s hips tightening momentarily, and he feels the man inhale deeply through his clenched teeth, his muscles tensing like he’s trying to control himself. The hand at Nero’s lower back slides downwards, and Dante’s fingers rub themselves through the slick dripping from Nero’s hole, running lightly along the surface before he slips two fingers into him.

Dante’s fingers are thick enough that they bump easily against Nero’s prostate on the way in, and Nero feels his nails dig into the meat of Dante’s arms as he jerks at the sensation, tightening up around the fingers inside of him. The motion pushes out more of slick until it’s nearly coating Dante’s entire hand, and Nero makes a noise like he’s dying, the back of his neck and ears burning with heat.

“It’s normal, kid,” Dante says, his voice rough and deeper than normal, a hint of a growl creeping into his words as he tangles his free hand in Nero’s hair, tilting his head back to expose his neck.

There’s a second where Dante looks hard at his flushed face, his eyes dropping to Nero’s lips, and Nero thinks the other might kiss him--but he doesn’t, because Dante never kisses him, he only drops his head into the crook of Nero’s neck and mouths at his throat. Nero feels a moment of irrational, foreign disappointment twist at his stomach, but then Dante crooks his fingers at just the right angle, sinking his teeth into the curve of Nero’s neck at the same time, and he spasms violently against Dante’s body with a loud keen.

“Yeah, that’s...good. You’re doing real good.”

Dante palms slow circles into his hair, murmuring out his praises into Nero’s neck as Nero squirms around his fingers, biting back a gasp as another finger slides smoothly into him, electricity tingling up his spine at the stretch.

The other’s always been good with his hands, and it doesn’t take very long before Nero’s close to coming, his sounds turning a little pitchier and a lot more desperate, his nails digging into Dante’s back. Dante knows how to read his body too well though, and right before Nero tightens up around him one last time, Dante still his motions, idly lapping at a fresh mark on his neck.

He can feel the tips of Dante’s sharp teeth graze against his neck as Dante grins, drawing his fingers slowly out of Nero, ensuring he feels the drag of his inner walls against the man’s fingers all the way. 

“You--you...fuck you!” Nero manages to spit out, his body trembling against Dante’s as he tries to reach downwards.

Dante’s large hand wraps itself easily around Nero’s wrist before he can get anywhere close, cheerfully prying him away, and Nero briefly entertains the idea of smacking Dante in the face as he feels Dante rearrange him as he pleases. 

Before he can act on that increasingly attractive sentiment, Dante moves him so that his back touches the man’s chest, wrapping an arm around Nero’s waist as his other hand slides upwards to flick at one of Nero’s nipples. Dante’s magic pulses underneath Nero’s skin, amplifying the sensation until he finds himself almost jerking away from the touch, his head falling back against Dante’s shoulder.

“Dante, that’s--that…”

His words trail off into an incoherent sort of mumble, his thoughts pushing slowly through the haze in his mind. He twists his head away with a soft whine, feeling his bangs stick against his damp skin, heat flickering under his too-warm body.

“Too much?” Dante asks, a teasing edge to his voice, dragging his fingers purposefully up Nero’s thigh, his hand brushing up against Nero’s hard cock.

It’s barely even a real touch, so light that Nero can’t even feel any friction off of it, but he hits the edge hard and fast, his body curling in on itself so hard that he nearly breaks out of Dante’s grip. He chokes on a near-sob, the tightness in his stomach nearly at its breaking point, but not enough to completely snap, and somewhere beside him, Dante presses his face into his neck, inhaling deeply.

A low growl starts up against Dante’s chest, a deep rumble against Nero’s body, and Nero thinks that Dante’s nails against his skin grow sharper, his teeth pressing harder into his neck. The sound goes straight to Nero’s dick, heat pooling in his lower half in response to the unconscious signal that Dante’s letting off, and something compels him to tilt his head in Dante’s direction, spreading his legs further in the man’s lap.

“Ah, fuck,” Dante grits out above him, which is all the warning that Nero gets before he finds himself being shoved off of Dante’s lap and face first into the bed. 

There’s a rush of external heat coming from above him, Dante’s voice trailing off and warping into something deeper and inhuman. Large hands, rougher and warmer and bigger than he remembers, grip tightly at his hips, tilting his lower half upwards before Dante pushes his cock into him. His cock shoves easily past the resistance of Nero’s rim, sliding into him with a wet noise, slick running freely down Nero’s legs.

Any thoughts about Dante’s sudden state of undress abruptly desert him as the sensation of finally being  _ full  _ rushes straight to his head, his voice escaping him in a near-scream. His fingers twist sharply into the sheets beneath him, hard enough to tear holes into the fabric, and his toes curl with the pleasure, his eyes rolling back into his head, a warm wetness gathering at his lashes.

It’s  _ good, _ it feels so good to have Dante inside of him like this, his walls clenching around the thickness brushing up against his prostate, and he thinks he could come right away like this, if Dante would just  _ move. _

Dante goes very still above him, and Nero whines impatiently at him, because if this bastard is  _ still fucking teasing him-- _

He pushes his hips back into Dante, seeking out more friction, and then he  _ feels  _ it. 

Dante bends down and sinks his teeth into the crook of Nero’s neck and stays there, and all of Nero’s bones turn to jelly as he goes completely limp underneath him. He can feel Dante somehow getting bigger inside of him, his cock expanding and stretching out the rim of Nero’s entrance until he thinks he might break. His walls spasm around the sudden stretch, and thick ridges push themselves against his prostate as Dante sinks impossibly deeper into him.

Nero feels like all the breath’s been punched out of him, his gasps coming out short and fast as he claws at the sheets beneath him, his eyes screwed tightly shut against the pressure. He hears Dante growl out against his ear, the sound far removed from what Nero’s used to, and when he dares to tilt his head and crack open his eyes, he realizes that Dante’s demon form is, in fact, much bigger than he’d thought it would be.

_ “Fuck, _ oh fuck--” Nero whimpers rather eloquently, and he figures that that’s the closest he’s going to come to actual human speech as Dante shifts slightly forwards into him, drawing out a choked-off wail from Nero’s abused throat.

Normal Dante couldn’t be considered small by any means, but Dante’s cock in his demon form was beyond comparison, rough and ridged and huge in a way that filled Nero completely. He presses himself against the mattress, his body instinctively trying to squirm off of Dante’s huge cock, but he stops dead when his abdomen stretches at the motion.

Nero forces himself to untangle one of his hands from the sheets, sliding it into the gap between his body and the bedsheets with some effort, his fingers brushing tentatively over the bulge poking out from his stomach. He pushes slightly at it, and Dante immediately jerks above him with a grunt, one thick, scale-bound forearm slamming into the space near Nero’s head for balance.

_ That’s his cock, _ Nero thinks, the realization occurring to him all at once. Dante can’t even fit properly in him when he’s like this, his dick pushing out against the tight skin of Nero’s stomach just to make room for himself.

The thought makes Nero tighten up around Dante with quiet keen, shuddering when the motion makes his walls drag against the hard ridges inside of him. 

Dante bends over him, his even broader chest easily covering Nero’s back as he draws his hips backwards. Nero feels his hole being forced further open around the ridges, spasming around each one as Dante pulls back with painful slowness, until just the tip of him rests inside of Nero. He thinks it should maybe hurt, but the wetness around his entrance works better than any lube could, leaking freely around Dante’s cock and down his legs.

He hears himself murmur something that could be Dante’s name, but the air is promptly driven from his lungs as Dante thrusts into him with enough force to shove his entire body forwards. One of Dante’s thick hands grips at his hips, the flat edges of his claws pressing themselves against the bulge in Nero’s midsection, the rest of his palm huge enough to nearly close around half of Nero’s waist. 

It only takes two hard thrusts against his prostate before Nero comes against his own stomach, his body trembling with relief at finally being pushed over the edge, his nails scrabbling for purchase against his torn bedsheets. He chokes on a sob, feeling his eyes prick with tears as Dante fucks him through it, each thrust dragging against Nero’s insides to an almost painful kind of overstimulation.

The bite mark on his thigh flares with heat, coiling the tightness in his stomach into a heavy warmth, and Nero can feel himself hardening again, arousal running straight to his gut despite the oversensitivity. 

Dante makes an approving sort of noise from behind him as Nero pushes back into his thrusts with a whimper, and Nero vaguely registers the sensation of something wrapping itself around his thigh, hard scales coming to cover the bite. He forces himself to open his eyes, blinking through his tears to look down at himself, and sees something like a  _ tail  _ coiled around his leg.

Something about that is oddly endearing, sending an entirely different kind of warmth to his stomach, but any subsequent thoughts are pushed out of his brain as Dante ruts into him, his grip on Nero’s hip tightening hard enough to bruise. 

The scales of Dante’s tail rub hard against his bite mark, pumping more of his magic into Nero’s body, and Nero wails at how good everything feels, his entire body sensitive to the touch. He’s all too aware of the roughness of Dante’s chest scraping against his back, of the drag of Dante’s hard cock inside of him, the firm pressure of Dante’s body pressing down into his, and it’s almost too much to process, his thoughts whiting out into one long high of pleasure.

The sheets beneath him are completely soaked, either from the slick that Dante pushes out of him with every hard thrust or from his own cum, and his muscles are so weak that Dante’s cock in him might be the only thing keeping him upright. 

Dante’s movements grow more forceful and erratic, his hips jerking against Nero’s body as he shoves himself in, and then Nero feels himself being stretched to the limit, his back arching as something hard swells up at the base of Dante’s cock, pushing Nero’s hole impossibly wider around him. 

Nero muffles his scream in the sheets as Dante’s knot presses harshly against his prostate, his body twitching in a pathetic attempt to escape the stimulation, but every minute movement only reminds him of how  _ full  _ he is. Dante shoves into him with a final grunt, and Nero feels the cock inside of him twitch as Dante finally comes inside of him.

He expects Dante’s cum to leak out of him, but the hard lump at the base of Dante’s cock blocks off Nero’s entrance, and Nero’s eyes roll up as his stomach starts to distend from the pressure, Dante’s cum inflating the bulge.

“Dante--Dante, what is…” Nero mumbles out unthinkingly into the sheets, unconsciously trying to squirm off of the knot, but Dante makes some sort of weird purring noise above him, bending down to nip at Nero’s shoulder.

The sensation makes Nero go still, his body falling limp underneath Dante, too exhausted to do much more but lean into the touch as Dante licks at the bites he’s left. One huge hand drops itself into Nero’s hair, the demon starting to gently pet at his head with surprising tenderness, and Nero feels himself smile weakly, oversensitive tears leaking into the pillow beneath him.

Dante’s tail rubs at his leg one final time before slowly unwrapping itself from Nero’s leg, and Nero whimpers at the loss. Dante makes an apologetic sort of noise, rocking his hips shallowly forward as he continues to fill Nero up, his knot lightly fucking into Nero’s body.

Nero blinks hard as a soft mewl escapes him, and everything goes a little blurry after that. He can feel the rush of Dante’s magic starting to drain out of him, rapidly leaving a heavy sort of exhaustion in its place, and it’s only with a dim sort of realization that he registers the knot inside of him starting to loosen.

His hole instinctively clenches down around Dante’s cock as it slowly returns to its normal size, the hand against his hair growing soft and more human, the claws retracting into gentle fingers. Dante starts to pull out of him, but Nero hears himself whine in protest, his hips chasing the motion like he wants to keep Dante inside of him.

“Alright, kid, I got you,” Dante reassures him softly, petting soothingly at Nero’s hair and running his fingers down to the curve of Nero’s neck.

Dante carefully rolls them over until they’re both curled up on their sides, with Nero’s head pillowed in Dante’s palm, the man’s broad chest flush against his back. The man lowers his head, his blue eyes unusually dark, and then Nero feels his head being tilted slightly back as Dante covers his lips with his own.

It’s a gentle, tender motion, more affectionate than anything Nero’s ever shared with Dante, and Nero barely has the time to consider the strangeness of it all before another wave of exhaustion washes over him. Dante pulls away, rubbing gently at Nero’s sides with his free hand.

“You did so good for me, Nero. I really gotta hand it to you, I didn’t think you could take it. You really are something special, yeah?”

Nero mumbles something incomprehensible as his eyes slip shut, something involving Dante’s name and a whole lot of emotion, but then Dante presses another gentle kiss to the top of his head, his warm hand resting against Nero’s stomach, and Nero feels so instinctively warm and safe that he passes out right there, curled up in his messy bed in the middle of a messy situation.

* * *

He wakes up just as warm and safe, but considerably more miserable.

The sheets beneath him feel clean at least, although the idea that Dante had done the laundry in his free time was a fairly alarming one, and he groans slightly as he shifts against them, an incredible soreness radiating from his lower half. He’s so tired that he can barely manage to uncurl himself, wincing at every movement.

The lump of warmth that he’s laying against immediately perks up at the indication of his awareness, the set of arms around him tightening.

“Yeah, sorry about that, kid. You might be feeling it for a while after. You need me to get something for you? Not too sure how you humans work still, but I figure you’ve got stuff to help out for pain like this, right?”

Well, at least one of them sounded energetic.

Nero cracks open his eyes, tilting his head back to find Dante staring down at him with visible concern. When he notices Nero’s gaze on him, his expression twists into its usual smug grin.

He doesn’t let go of Nero, though--in fact, he seems to want to hold him even tighter, rolling them over so that Nero’s laying properly against his chest, Dante’s arms wrapped easily around his lower back.

Nero blinks slowly up at Dante’s face, his hands curled limply against the firm muscles of Dante’s bare chest, trying to process the questions one at a time.

“...Do you feel better, then?” he decides to ask, because his mind is still having immense difficulty in producing any real sort of answers in response to Dante’s words.

The look in Dante’s eyes turns somewhat fond, one of his hands starting to rub soothing circles into Nero’s lower back.

“Yeah. I’m all good now, thanks to you. So I really owe you one--what do you want? You can ask for anything, I promise.”

Dante looks genuinely eager to repay him, something in his behavior highly reminiscent of an excited puppy, and Nero frowns at that, tilting his head tiredly at the implication of the words.

“What are you, a genie? I didn’t do it for you so that you could owe me something, I did it because I…”

His filter is apparently off because the words tumble out of him without permission, and he clamps his mouth shut before he can reveal anything particularly embarrassing, pushing his face into Dante’s chest with a scowl. He hikes his shoulders up as he feels Dante start to stare at him, the man’s hand going still against his back.

“Well, now you gotta tell me. Because what? Come on, I’m curious!”

Nero blushes furiously into Dante’s chest, twisting further into him like he’ll get out of this if he stays silent enough, but he can feel the way that Dante keeps  _ looking  _ at him with those stupid puppy eyes and he remembers how honest Dante had been with him earlier.

“I...I didn’t like seeing you like that, okay?” He finally forces himself to say, but doesn’t uncover his face from where he’s buried it in Dante’s chest. “You...are really stupid and annoying normally, but it’s even more annoying to watch you lay on the couch and be miserable. You didn’t even want to eat  _ pizza, _ do you know how disturbing that is to see?”

He must not have put enough bite into his tone because Dante laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest and vibrating pleasantly against Nero’s ear.

“You were really that worried for me? You really do love me, huh?”

Nero plants his hands into Dante’s chest and pushes himself as upright as he can with a squawk of mingled alarm and pain, his cheeks flushed dark red.

“You’re the one that kissed me!” Nero sputters out, too preoccupied with tossing out an incredibly weak “no you” type of defense to realize that he’d forgotten to deny Dante’s claim altogether.

Dante clearly takes notice of this as he raises a brow, flipping them over so that Nero finds his back against the bed, with Dante’s smug face leaning entirely too close to him.

“Yeah, I guess I did. And I’d do it again, if you’d let me. So will you?”

He thinks Dante’s teasing him at first, but something in Dante’s expression is unusually serious, his eyes flicking between Nero’s own and down to his lips. Nero brings his hands up to cover his very red face, biting back the urge to scream or perhaps forcibly vanish himself from the face of the earth entirely.

“You’re  _ asking  _ me? What’s happened to you lately? Did your head finally get so big you smashed it into something?” he demands, but when he dares to lower his hands, Dante’s still looking at him in that questioning sort of way, clearly waiting for Nero’s instruction.

He slowly drops his hands back to his sides, turning his face to the side to avoid looking at Dante’s smirk.

“Hurry up already, old man.”

Dante leans down to kiss him, leaning his thick forearm next to Nero’s head for balance, his free hand petting gently at Nero’s hair, and Nero can’t even deny how much he likes all of it, everything about Dante warm and pleasant and kind. 

“I gotta admit, I’ve followed a lot of humans home in my time, but I’ve never really gotten to this part before. My kind don’t usually, uh...love.”

There’s a barely noticeable trace of hesitation clinging to Dante’s last word, his gaze shifting slightly away as he speaks, and it occurs to Nero that, for all his pretense, Dante’s just as lost in all of this as he is.

He lifts up a hand, his fingers brushing at Dante’s soft locks of hair, his knuckles scraping lightly at the stubble on the man’s jaw.

“What, you scared them all away? Well, don’t worry. That won’t work on me.”

Dante’s smile turns easy and warm, the sharp edges crumbling into something soft as he rolls off of Nero and onto his side, wrapping him up in a hug and deliberately pulling Nero’s face into his chest.

“You’re the best, kid.”

Nero’s noise of outrage is promptly muffled in a wall of muscle, his hand smacking uselessly at Dante’s huge shoulders. He’s glad that Dante can’t see his face though, because his features betray him, a smile helplessly overtaking his scowl without permission.

Dante’s an unrepentant bastard, lazy and smug in all the worst ways, but he’s  _ Nero’s  _ unrepentant bastard, and he’s here to stay. He doesn’t think things will be too different, now that his resident soul-stealing incubus also happens to be his boyfriend.

And if they are, well--Nero’s always liked trying new things, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> https://twitter.com/moolktea  
> degenerate twitter SKFLJ


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